...but they aren't quite sure what it is. About ten days ago, there was a missed call on my cell phone from a number I didn't recognize. From the prefix, I could tell it was a St. Albans (West Virginia) number...but I don't know anyone who lives in St. Albans.

Over the next several days, I received more of these mystery calls and they all had two things in common. First, I could hardly tell what any of the people were saying. They were all men, they were obviously different people, but none of them enunciated worth a damn. Second, each and every one of them began by asking for someone (whose name I couldn't make out) then, when I told them they had the wrong number, they'd say, "Who's this?!"

My response to that question, when posed by a wrong-number-caller is always the same: "Well...you called me...who are you?" Of course, the caller always responds by mumbling some more, or asking again who I am, so on and so forth, blah, blah, blah, all the while I'm reiterating that, since they called me, perhaps they should confess their identity first.

In the end, when they finally understand that they have called the wrong number, each of these people respond exactly the same way. They hang up on me. Without apology. Without a "thank you." Sometimes they call back. (Heh.) Super geniuses of the universe, these guys.

Two or three nights ago, the St. Albans guy called again...at 3:00 a.m. I had the typical conversation with him, but the shortened middle-of-the-night version that I think ended with me hanging up on him. This special genius called right back so I had Eric answer it. Waking Eric up in the middle of the night with a jerk-ass phone disposition is not a good idea. Eric had some firm words with the guy and then hung up.

So the calls continue. Hopefully, someday the leader of this particular Mensa chapter will realize that s/he's giving out the wrong phone number. Until then, I'm not sure there's much I can do about it.

...but the black Sharpie letter "A". I found that I had to mark my prescription bottle with it or it was only a matter of time before I'd be taking my Ambien during the day...again. Recently my generic Synthroid^* was switched to a pill almost identical in appearance to Ambien. They are also in the same-sized bottle.

Several weeks ago, just before my mother came to the house, I took my Synthroid and set about sorting the things in the house and packing. Several minutes later, about the time my mom showed up, I started to feel dizzy and just not right. When she said my eyes were all glassy and that I should lay down, I realized I had mistakenly taken the Ambien, not the Synthroid. Thank goodness she was there to watch the kids because I had to go immediately to bed where I slept solidly (the kind where you have no perception of passing time) for five hours.

After that, I noticed that I was still sometimes getting the Ambien bottle in my hand (instead of Synthroid) at work. Man, oh, man. What a huge, huge problem that would be. I would end up unable to stay awake (or if I could manage to force it, unable to be coherent or sane) and unable to drive myself home even if the work I had to do wasn't pressing. Talk about coming off as an irresponsible employee. ("Sorry, boss...I've improperly medicated myself again.")

So I pull out my favorite writing utensil (the Sharpie), and mark the bottle in a way that I hope prevents such mistakes. And sometimes I look at the bottle and ponder whether moderate-to-severe insomnia can ever be overcome without medication. Even I'll admit that the comedy of Adventures with Ambien gets a little old. (In fact, I lost my brux guard for several days this week. Turns out, it was on top of the fridge.)

^*Women, thyroid disease is often missed, even when you think you've been checked for it.

If you have symptoms of hyperthyroidism or hyopthyroidism, be sure to push for thorough testing.

I'll probably soon write about my two years spent trying to get someone to recognize that I

wasn't eating myself into a 40-pound weight gain.

Well, my fascination with my (and some other people's) reaction to Ambien might be a little self-centered...or maybe even narcissistic. I guess I'm not so worried about seeming narcissistic, because I'm sure people are just as fascinated with me as me...is. Ahem.

But, I have to mention this: I spent Monday through yesterday looking all around the house for my brux guard. (In my body's continued quest to make sleeping as unsatisfying as possible, I grind my teeth when I'm not experiencing insomnia.) In case you don't know, a brux guard is something you wear in your mouth that cushions the attempted grinding of the teeth. I couldn't find this thing anywhere! And this is not like you can just go out and replace these things! They're really expensive (for anyone who's brother-in-law is not a dentist) and still take several days to get back, and fruit basket to your brother-in-law's office if he is a dentist.

I knew it could be laying around the bedroom or bathroom because, despite what the commercials say, Ambien is hard to shake off when you wake up. (Should that be "laying" or "lying"? Is it "chickens lay and horses lie"? Why are horses so dishonest? What about "getting it right from the horse's mouth"?) But what's the choice? Be tired, disoriented, and unhealthy because of long-term sleep deprivation?

Anyway, the amnesia that you have at night can linger into the morning and, in my experience, it makes me emotional. Here's an example of THAT...back in January I was doing my last-minute weather checks for the Orlando area since we were getting ready to take the kids to Disney World for vacation. I checked Weather.com every morning when I first got up, waiting for the 10-day forecast to totally encompass the days of our visit. So one morning I'm upset beyond belief when I read that our trip was going to be filled with 30-something-degree days and a possible snowstorm. I immediately sent out a somewhat hysterical e-mail to all my friends, my dad (who lives in Sarasota), and my two brothers.

About an hour later I got to work and suddenly reality sank in...it's crazy to think it would be 30-something degrees and snowing in Orlando...let alone for several days in a row. I checked weather.com again and realized that I had not clicked on my saved Orlando search and had, therefore, been looking at the weather for Charleston, WV. Not surprisingly, and maybe intuitively, my dad's one-line response to my written hysterics was "No snow in the Big O."

So I couldn't find my brux guard for three days. I had to sleep without it and awoke with all the symptoms of grinding my teeth the night before. This morning, I was digging in the bottom of my purse looking for more mints (to which I'm addicted) and I found...my brux guard. I just wonder at what point Monday morning I decided to take it to work with me.

Well, six people from Charleston trekked to Huntington yesterday for the second meeting of their Scrabble club. Funny thing, though...aside from one dedicated player (who has driven here to Charleston to play) and one newer, but very skilled, player...no one else from Huntington showed up. Not even...umm...the director. It appears that just maybe the last meeting's strong showing was a fluke, a lot of the director's friends showing up at his request, etc.

Still, we had a great time in a really cool environment. We snacked on mostly vegetarian food (which was delicious) and had some very non-vegan cappuccino drinks and milkshakes. I ended up 2-1 with a pretty decent point spread and, you know, as long as I don't just do really, really bad...I'm happy just to play. Based on this experience, and the need for the occasional backup director here in Charleston, I've decided to take the NSA Director's Test. Passing this test will not just make me more of a Miss Smarty Pants, it will qualify me to conduct or officiate, so to speak, both club meetings and tournaments.

Since Eric is away with the Army Reserves on drills this weekend, the rest of the evening found me at home, playing Scrabulous on Facebook, goofing around on the Internets, and researching exciting things like wallpaper. Before I knew it, though, it seemed like it was just about bedtime.

So without Ambien, I can't maintain an acceptable amount of sleep. Before I started taking it, I had a hard time falling asleep, would sleep restlessly, and would wake up every morning about 4:30 and not be able to go back to sleep. Now my routine is to take it about 10:30 or 11:00 and go to bed about 45 minutes later, when it really kicks in. I do have what's known as Ambien Amnesia which means I have almost no memory of conversations and events while Ambien is in my system. One sort of funny part of this side effect is my tendency to send somewhat off-the-wall or nonsensical e-mail to people while I'm Ambien. It's a good thing I'm not the angry drunk type, so the e-mails usually don't have any malicious content. The most troublesome, but less common, problem is what I call "breaking through" the Ambien. When this happens, I somehow move past the medication's sleep inducement and stay up nearly all night with no real sense of the passing of time. This has only happened a few times but, yes, it happened last night. One minute I was getting ready to wrap up the last of my Scrabulous moves before the ridiculousness set in and, the next thing I knew, it was 4:00 a.m. I sent an e-mail to someone at 3:00 a.m., the evidence of which is in my OutBox. Other than that, I think I played more Scrabulous.

So much for my crazy-chick-who-totally-pulls-off-the-acting-normal thing. Today will continue to be one seriously tired day. I'm glad Eric will be home tonight so he can supervise and make sure I actually go to sleep at some point.